Hello, Me.

Its been a long since I stumbled here. After a while I started taking it as some kind of forbidden territory. A place that was haunted. Haunted by the ghosts I created out of smoke and fire. I envied the place because I couldn't speak. Tongue-tied. Everything that it stood for - or it could have stood for - is lost. And why be that, I have no clue. So why am I back in the house I left so long ago? Maybe because the ghosts of the past never really left the shadow that followed me. I would walk for ages, for ages, without reaching a destination. A conclusion. I know the journey is long and tiresome, but I will walk. For as long as I must.

What matters and what doesn't. What is transitory and what isn't. Why must it be so. The first step is the hardest. Hard it is, but also impossible. For once and all, I would step out. The dark blue sky that hangs over my shoulders like fish hang on metal hooks. I would stare around for a while, look at this bright, bright light and conclude, this is not it. Then I would walk again. For a while, until I see him crossing my path again. I'd mumble an abstract idea: Hello, its a beautiful day today. He would listen, cross my path and step out. I'd stand there for a while, look around, see the fish on hooks one more time and run. I'd run far and long. I'd run for as long as I can. I'd look back and the world would run with me. The mud would glue under my feet, I'd run still.

The meadows I passed, the rivers I crossed, the mountains I climbed, the air I breathed, the fire that burned me, will bear witness to me. I was there. Yes, I was. Who can say how long it took me? The ideas that floor my head, pour out of the window like trash, stick to my eyelashes like dust and leave my skin. What would it be if it was not this? Would it be any different? Would it be any better? Sometimes when your eyes have had too much exposure, they burn. They burn with such fire you could boil an egg with it.